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arched auburn brows. 'Who are you, Mr Carmichael?' she
mocked.
    Surprise widened his eyes, and then his mouth quirked
self-derisively. 'I think I deserved that!'
    'I think so, too,' Merlyn nodded, relieved the danger
seemed to have passed.
    He ran an impatient hand through his hair. 'It's just that
since this damned film on Suzie has been announced I've had several
reporters trying to find out who I'm sleeping with now!'
    Merlyn had received her own share of bad press over the
years, although nothing as personal as that. She would have felt as
angry as he obviously was, would probably have felt as resentful
towards the film and everyone connected with it, too.
    'You aren't a reporter, are you?' he grated as she seemed
to pale a little.
    'No,' she laughed gratefully.
    'I hope not,' he scowled. 'Because rain or no rain you
would be thrown out in it right now if I even suspected—'
    'I'm not a reporter, Rand,' she repeated firmly. 'But I
did realise who you were before Anne told me, although looking as you
do now I had trouble recognising you.'
    'Looking as I do now?' he challenged.
    She shrugged. 'The long hair and beard; they went out of
fashion years ago.'
    'And when they were in fashion I was too damned busy
trying to make my fortune to be able to indulge myself in such
frivolity!' He stood up. 'But as long as you aren't some damned
snooping reporter—'
    'I can assure you I'm not,' she said coolly.
    'Then I don't give a damn what work you do,' he frowned.
'Or even if you work at all!'
    He was being insulting again, and Merlyn couldn't help but
smile. 'Are there still such things as "kept" women?' she taunted.
    Rand looked at her coldly. 'I'm not impressed by women's
so-called independence from men,' he replied heatedly.
    Merlyn frowned at his vehemence. 'I don't believe I was
trying to impress you,' she snapped. 'Some of us don't have any choice
but
to be independent!'
    'And how you all love it,' he jeered.
    She shook her head. 'I don't think I know you well enough
to discuss this rationally—'
    'We aren't likely to get to know each other any better
than this,' he bit out.
    'Perhaps that's as well.' Merlyn glared at him defiantly.
    'Perhaps it is.' Rand's nod was abrupt. 'Now if you'll
excuse me,' he added scornfully, 'I have some work to attend to in my
study.'
    Merlyn felt the tension slowly ease from her body once he
had left, aware that confrontation about her profession had only just
been avoided, although at what cost. Rand had been married to a woman
already well-established in her career long before they met, and yet he
seemed to resent women having careers. Had their marriage not been as
happy as all the stories about them had indicated? No, she couldn't
believe that. A man could resent some aspect of a woman's life and
still love her. She was sure Rand had loved Suzie. Just as she was sure that any 'work' Rand had to attend to
in his study would include a bottle of brandy. A man didn't drown his
sorrows in alcohol if he hadn't loved the woman he had lost.
    Merlyn would have felt a little better about the
precariousness of her own position here if she could have talked to
Anne again on the telephone at least, but the line was still dead when
she lifted the receiver to check. Probably the other woman was as
worried about the situation here as Merlyn was!
    Having now met Brandon Carmichael, she was surprised that
the other woman had had the courage to put her sister's life-story on
to paper when Suzie's husband was obviously still so bitter and upset
at his loss. She knew it had to be because of Anne's affection for him
that the two of them had somehow managed to remain friends, that Rand
hadn't cut the other woman from his life for what she had done. Merlyn
had a feeling she was going to like Anne Benton very much, knew she had
to be a very special lady for Rand to have accepted her book about
Suzie.
    Anne's book had more or less covered her sister's life
from the time she was born, her childhood here, her first